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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122119">even a small love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/clio/pseuds/clio'>clio</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Din Djarin Needs a Hug, F/M, It's about the longing, Takes place during S1E4, What-If</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:27:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/clio/pseuds/clio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It begins with a few words.</p><p>They float from between her lips, warm and alive, and full of promise.  </p><p>"We want you to stay."</p><p>And sliding gently past all his defenses, they breathe life into him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Omera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>even a small love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>As it has been said:</em><br/>
<em>Love and a cough</em><br/>
<em>cannot be concealed.</em><br/>
<em>Even a small cough.</em><br/>
<em>Even a small love.</em>
</p><p>- <strong>Anne Sexton</strong></p><p> </p><p>It begins with a few words.</p><p>They float from between her lips, warm and alive, and full of promise.</p><p>
  <em>We want you to stay.</em>
</p><p>And sliding gently past all his defenses, they breathe life into him.</p><p>It doesn’t end there, however, because although it began with words, it quickly becomes something more. Greater.</p><p>Omera begins to paint a life for him.</p><p>One where he trains his hands not for battle or the myriad of ways to inflict harm and destruction, but for the honest work of caring for the land, of living off the gifts of the ponds. Where he trades in the cold metallic confines of his ship and his armor and chooses instead to wear skin kissed by the light of a golden sun and cleansed by the soft rain and comforted by gentle spring breezes. One where he can gaze upon the child with his very eyes and have the child know him by the sight of his face, by the familiar touch of his hand, by the sound of his own voice.</p><p>
  <em>Wouldn’t that be nice?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It would.</em>
</p><p>He sees it all unfold before him.</p><p>This woman, this beautiful woman with her kind heart, at his side through all his remaining days. Shared meals and shy smiles. Cold winter nights pressed close together for warmth and comfort in their bed. Long walks through the forests hand in hand, and hot summer afternoons spent swimming in the cool waters of the river. Secrets and promises whispered against each other’s mouths, against each other’s skin, without anything to impede the intimacy that would bind their souls together.</p><p>And they would love in the light.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She lays her hands on his helmet and slowly begins to pull it upwards.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He can see them as a family.</p><p>Omera and him, his daughter, and her son, and her stomach swelling with new life. They would be his and he would be theirs and they would belong to each other and no one else. And his family would not know hunger and they would not know war, and their days and lives would be full of peace and joy and love.</p><p>They would raise each other.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He catches her hands just in time.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The picture of a life swims so vividly behind his eyes, all of it in stunning, aching, technicolor that it will take everything in him to banish the picture from his mind. From his heart. To walk away from it and her and what could be.</p><p>Forcing the words out feels like receiving a devastating mortal wound.</p><p>
  <em>I don’t belong here.</em>
</p><p>He only half believes it. Because he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to continue on now, having seen what he has and felt in his soul that he wanted it, and that that life could actually be his. He <em>could</em> belong, and the very thought of it has him trembling in her hold. Then she smiles up at him in her gentle, understanding way and it wreaks destruction upon him. He doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to turn away. To let her, and all that they could be and have together, go.</p><p> </p><p>A gunshot echoes in the distance</p><p>and he silences the longing within him. </p>
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